


Beginning of Forever

by psyraah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kain met his gaze with a smile. His eyes were glimmering, and there was a fading bruise just under his chin, and had that scar been there before? But Kain smiled, and that was when Jean realised that he’d cross a thousand worlds to see it. </p><p>Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginning of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Debut fic into this godforsaken pairing that [Xyriath](http://www.xyriath.tumblr.com) dragged me into. For that, you get this entire 5.8k worth of rambling fluffy nonsense dedicated to you <3
> 
> I don't know why John Legend is in there, the song isn't particularly relevant but was stuck in my head.

_It’s the beginning of forever_

_You don’t have to go_

_Sometimes, you just know_

— The Beginning, John Legend

* * *

Distance was hard. Distance was especially hard when you knew that everything was going to hell in some distant part of the world, but you were stuck ‘recuperating’ because your legs didn’t work and you had been both literally and figuratively stabbed in the back.

Jean did get letters though. Long ones from Hawkeye, merely detailing the mundane tasks she ran for the Fuhrer, if you never read between the lines. Breda’s and Falman’s were similar, though of course Vato managed to use Briggs Wall trivia as his code.

But he didn’t hear from Fuery.

At first he found it odd, because Kain had been there pretty much every day when he had still been in hospital. Bringing him books, food, whatever. Keeping him company, and Jean had thought maybe there had been—something. But it had been so soon after Solaris-turned-Lust that Jean didn’t want to be thinking about there being a something with _anyone_ , even some sweet kid with sparkling eyes and a soft smile.

After a little bit, Jean put it down to maybe Kain just not being a letter person, or a keep in contact type person. Though that didn’t really make sense either, going off the fact that Kain was, in general, a caring about everyone type person. Still, he wrote back to the others, which was how he found out that Kain was stationed south.

South where there had been reports of a border war, and pictures of decimated cities in the daily paper. And Jean had been so angry when he found out, because what kind of an idiot would put Kain on the front lines?

But there was nothing he could do ( _not now, never again_ ). So the day after he found out, he simply addressed a letter to Kain with the words ‘how are you?’ and sent it to the camp on the Aerugan border. 

* * *

Distance was hard, so Jean tried to keep busy. He found himself thinking about Kain a lot, even though there wasn’t all that much contact. He kept himself occupied getting everything ready for the Promised Day—kept double checking the calendar to make sure he actually _had_ the right day—and practising what he was going to say to the Colonel that would be suitably dramatic when they got in touch, as he had planned with Bec.

Even so, when he was sorting through some things in the shop, and found their stock of glasses with thin black frames, he thought of Kain. When the radio was broken and everyone was scratching their heads, and they once again had to call in Uncle Norbert—who lived two hours away—to come and fix it, he thought of Kain.

No, Jean hadn’t heard much from Kain, but what had arrived had been enough to keep him on Jean’s mind. Three letters in total over the course of the past few months.

_Hi Lieutenant Havoc. I’m all right. Safe. Thanks for the letter and sorry I didn’t write earlier, I’ve been busy. There’s someone here who reminds me of you, he’s tall and he smokes, but he’s not even half as funny. How are you recovering? Hope everything’s going well for you._

The second one had been barely anything, two words on a scrap of paper that had been stuffed in an envelope with his address scrawled across.

_Still alive._

Then the third.

_This is the last batch of letters that’ll be going through for a while. Not safe to send any more couriers down here apparently. Hopefully I’ll get you see you once this all dies down._

_I miss you._

Then there was nothing, and apparently no one else was in contact either.

“We heard from Fuery at all?”

From where she perched on his kitchen table, Bec shrugged even as her expression turned slightly grave.

“Not that I know of. Riza and Breda are both in place, or almost. Falman’s still up north. Last we heard from Fuery, he said he’d be in Central in time, but nothing yet.”

“Shit. He’s got what, two days left?”

“Yeah, but Riza reckons he’ll be there. From what I hear, he’s a pretty reliable guy.”

“Yeah, he’s loyal and hard-working as fuck. Colonel asks him to do something, and boom, quickest turnaround you ever see for anything. But still, you gotta…he’s on a war front, Bec.” Jean sighed, picking at one of the arms of his wheelchair. “And he’s tough as nails, but he’s—he’s a good guy, and they shipped him off to fucking fight a war.”

“If he’s as good as you say, I’m sure your boy will make it out just fine.”

Jean narrowed his eyes at the way she’d said it. “He’s not _my_ boy,” he said mildly, but Bec just smiled and inspected her fingernails.

“Of course not, cause you just gush like that about everyone on a regular basis.”

“Hey, that wasn’t gushing, it’s the truth!” But her silence, and the fact that she was still just humming gently and looking at her hands, spoke for itself. Jean tried to hold out for a moment longer, still glaring at Bec, before giving in with a sigh.

“I don’t even know if he likes guys,” he muttered sullenly. “And it’s not like I’ve ever had any luck here.”

“Well,” Bec said, hopping of the table to walk over and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Just ask him next time you see him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

People getting bored. People getting bored, then finding someone else.  Getting stabbed through the back and discovering your new girlfriend was both immortal and after the destruction of humankind.

But it wasn’t like Bec didn’t already know all that, so Jean just laid his hand over the one that was gently squeezing his shoulder, and said nothing. 

* * *

Distance was hard, but it was good to finally, finally be back in the game. Hearing the Colonel’s surprise when Bec handed over the phone had Jean laughing properly for the first time in months. And then there was a soft voice in the background, and muffled dialogue, before Mustang was back on the phone.

“I’ll see you later, Havoc. We need to go, but Fuery wants to talk to you.”

Jean swallowed. “All right then. Don’t get yourself killed, Colonel, otherwise I’ll be out of a job.”

Mustang laughed. “Giving orders to a superior officer now, Lieutenant? Remind me to dock your pay when you’re back.”

“Hey, I just—” There was a shuffling noise and some murmured words, and then light breathing over the line.

“Jean?” It occurred to him that they’d never actually used first names before.

“Hey, kid. You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m—alive.” And even through the crackling of the phone line Jean could fatigue in that soft voice that hadn’t been there before, and Jean ached for whatever Kain had been through. “I just—” There was a long silence, and Jean was about to ask “what?” right as Kain spoke again.

“I love you.”

Jean froze. Turned out the question still stood: what?

“I never told you, because you always—well, I never told you. But things got pretty serious when I was south, and I realised I might not get another _chance_ and now I have one so I don’t want to waste it.”

And whatever Jean had been expecting, this was not it. Sure, he’d _thought_ about it, but never did he think that it would actually happen and that Kain would actually want him. Jean wanted to croak out a reply, make some noise, do _something_ , but his voice box didn’t seem to want to work with him.

A long, crackling sigh was breathed out over the line, and Jean could almost see Kain run one hand through his hair, the way he did whenever he made that sound.

“You don’t have to say anything back. I just needed you to know.”

“Fuery,” a distant voice called. “We need to get going.”

Kain shouted back a reply before returning to Jean. “I need to go now.”

Jean finally managed to get his voice working.

“Yeah, I heard.” And now a slow smile was spreading. “I’ll—I’ll see you after, all right?”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll see you then.”

“Fuery.” Jean took a breath and tried not to make an ass of himself. “I missed you. You gotta stay alive. That’s an order, got it? 

And Jean’s heart lifted because he could hear Kain’s soft smile when he spoke next.

“Yes sir, Lieutenant Havoc.” 

* * *

It was almost a week after the Promised Day before Jean could actually make it back to Central. The trains had been down for a day or two, then they were occupied with shipping supplies for rebuilding and recovery. The train that Jean was on was packed, being one of the first to actually take passengers. When he arrived at the station it was equally busy, and not for the first time Jean got that twist in his heart from the fact that he was stuck in a wheelchair. Bec had arranged to meet him, and he used to be able to see over the heads of pretty much everyone. Now he couldn’t see shit but the wall of coats and bags moving in a throng around him, and the only reason he could find her was because of her voice shouting his name to cut through the noise of the crowd.

“Van’s just parked out the front,” she said, once Jean managed to wheel his way to her without running over anyone in any way that was permanently harmful. “You got anything you need to drop off at your place?”

“Nah, all my stuff’s being shipped back up on the next train.”

“All right, pretty much everyone’s at the hospital. You want to swing by there first?”

“Yeah, it’d be good.” Bec had updated him about Mustang’s eyes, and Hawkeye’s close shave, but he needed to see for himself that everyone was all right.

“Fuery’s there too.” Jean immediately went red at that. Though the long debrief they’d had as soon as Bec had been able to get a hold of a phone had been mostly business related, she had managed to extract the details of Jean’s conversation with Kain.

“Yeah, well, so is everyone else,” he muttered. Her only reply was an innocent grin, but Jean wasn’t fooled.

* * *

There was a lot of shouting coming from the room that apparently housed Mustang, but once Jean identified one of the voices as Ed’s, his alarm faded. Sure enough, when he made his way inside, there was Ed, both flesh arms planted down on Mustang’s bed and growling at him.

“I swear Mustang, I am going to sock you so hard into next week—”

“What, with that stick of an arm of yours? Is that meant to frighten me Fullmetal?”

“I’ve still got the other one you bastard, and you’re lucky that it ain’t metal—”

Jean cleared his throat. “Er, hi?”

Both men stopped shouting and immediately whipped around, Mustang’s gaze rapidly swinging over to settle on a spot a few feet away from Jean.

“Havoc?”

Jean couldn’t help the slow grin that spread across his face as he approached the bed, with Ed laughing and clapping Jean’s shoulder. “Back and reporting for duty, sir.”

Roy snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Not much duty to be reporting for right now, not with half the military laid up recovering. But still, it’s good to have you back.”

“Lieutenant Havoc?” Jean looked over his shoulder and his smile broadened as Bec entered with Hawkeye in tow.

“Hey, Lieutenant Hawkeye. Looking good.” She smiled back.

“It’s nice to see you.”

“Hey, Havoc!” And then Breda and Falman were also there, and Mustang’s room was starting to get very, very crowded. But god, it was amazing being back, being in the thick of it all, being able to laugh and shout. Yes, he’d grown up in the quiet of the country, but to have been forced back after so many years of the bustle of military life? It’d been excruciating. He belonged here.

Then another familiar voice cut over the top of all the babble.

“All right, flat white for Lieutenant Breda. Colonel I have your box of donuts. Ed, I couldn’t find any chocolate ice cream at the store, so I just bought chocolate. I’ve got the rest of it outside, I just couldn’t carry it all after…” 

The voice trailed off and Jean swivelled to see Kain standing in the doorway, laden with groceries.

“Oh. Hey, Lieutenant Havoc. 

Jean really couldn’t stop the helpless smile that tugged at his mouth. “Hey, kid.”

Kain blinked before smiling back. “Hi. Um, I need to go grab the other things, so—" 

Breda knocked his knuckles against Kain’s head lightly—to a protest of ‘ow!’—and grabbed his shopping bag and the drink tray from him even as Kain protested.

“It’s all right, we’ll deal with it. You guys can do whatever it is you need to do.”

“They’re not really ‘doing’ anything,” Ed pointed out. “Just saying hi a million times.”

Breda just grinned and tugged Falman along, and both Hawkeye and Bec walked past Jean with knowing glances to go talk to Mustang. Despite the way he could feel his ears heating up, Jean rolled his eyes when Bec patted his shoulder and winked at him.

“So, er, you wanna take a walk?” he asked, looking up at Kain, and Kain met his gaze with a smile. His eyes were glimmering, and there was a fading bruise just under his chin, and had that scar been there before? But Kain smiled, and that was when Jean realised that he’d cross a thousand worlds to see it.

 _Shit_.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

* * *

It was sunny, and surprisingly peaceful in the little courtyard behind the hospital. You’d never have thought that the end of the world had been imminent only a few days ago. They strolled down in companionable silence, passing nurses and other patients in the corridors as they made their way outside.

“You all right?” Jean asked, noticing that Kain winced when someone bumped against his arm.

“Hm?” Kain looked down in surprise. “Oh, yeah. Just had an injury in the first couple of days when I was on the front. Still twinges a little, but it’s fine. 

They were quiet for a little while as they headed to a bench beneath a blossoming tree, before Jean asked the question that he’d wanted to voice since he’d heard the way that Kain’s voice sagged a little now. Since he’d noticed that there was a little chunk taken out of Kain’s left ear.

“How was it?” Kain shrugged as he sat down, Jean stopping the wheelchair just in front of him. Then Kain smiled bitterly, an expression that Jean had never seen on his face before, and it tore him that he could see it now. 

“It’s over. I’m alive.” 

Unspoken: the fact that others weren’t. But Jean wasn’t about to say something that Kain already knew, probably already had engrained into his very being now.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said quietly, and Kain had a distant look in his eyes, focussing on the middle distance about where Jean’s knees were. 

“Thanks.” Kain sighed quietly. “Still, it happened, and I can’t change that. But I did learn that you can’t really take things for granted. I thought I knew that before, but now…” Kain looked over to Jean, then leaned forward a little. The sun glinted a off Kain’s glasses as he met Jean’s eye, and Jean’s breath caught in his throat at the intensity of the gaze and the words that followed.

“I just needed you to know. In case there was a chance, and I’d been too stupid to take it. But if it’s not something that you want, then I’m happy to let it go and to be friends.” Kain’s smile softened. “I just…needed to know.”

Jean swallowed. Tried to fight past the lump in his throat and the pounding of his heart unsuccessfully, and swallowed again. Kain’s expression was searching and Jean still couldn’t get his madly scrambling brain to form _anything_ coherent, and it was only when Kain let out a barely audible sigh and started to lean away that Jean finally spoke.

“So you asking me out or not, Fuery?” Kain froze. And then his face lit up with a smile brighter than the yellow of the sun illuminating it.

“Yes, Jean. Yes, I am asking you out.”

Jean rolled himself forward a little so that his knees were bumping Kain’s, and he reached out to take one little hand in his.

“I’d like to try,” he said, gently squeezing the hand in his.  “I really wanna try.” Kain’s smile was soft as he returned the pressure. Then it turned a little wicked.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jean blinked. Then the words hit him, and he blushed instead. “Oh. Um, sure, just hang on.” He manoeuvred the wheelchair so that Kain was facing Jean’s side instead of his front, making it easier for them to just reach each other over the side of the wheelchair rather than having to lean over their knees. Once he was in position, he turned back to Kain—

To find that Kain was already way too close, his lips practically brushing Jean’s already. One hand traced Jean’s arm, up his shoulder, to rest gently on the back of his neck.

“Are you done, Lieutenant?” Kain breathed. It suddenly hit Jean that he’d never dated anyone with glasses before. Maybe he should’ve been embarrassed that he was a little breathless already, and that his heart was pounding, but he didn’t really care. Not with Kain so close that Jean could see, for the first time, that Kain had freckles.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good. I’m ready.”

But he wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t ready for the way one smooth action drew them together, the way that their breaths mingled and Kain swiped his tongue over Jean’s lip before gently dipping inside. God, where had the kid learned to kiss like that? All soft and sweet and urgent, one hand settled firmly on Jean’s waist and the other tracing lightly over the back of his neck. Jean tried to give as good as he got, loving the feel of skin beneath his palms as he cupped Kain’s face in his hands and nipped lightly with his teeth.  

Jean might have been moaning a little and making out with a cute ass kid in public, in the middle of a hospital garden, but any embarrassment was lost in the feeling of Kain breathing hard against Jean’s mouth and sinking teeth into his lower lip, of soft hair under his hands and the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears.

And when Kain laughed as their noses bumped together awkwardly, the sound danced up Jean’s spine and had him wishing, wanting to never have it end.

They drew back eventually, after Kain pressed his lips one last time against Jean’s well-kissed ones. Still smiling, he took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt, then put them back on and slipped a hand into Jean’s. Jean cleared his throat, running a thumb over the back of Kain’s hand.

“Well.”

Kain looked a question at him. “Well?”

Jean dropped his gaze to their interlinked fingers. “I really think we need to do that again later,” he said. Damn it, he could feel the red creeping up his cheeks, but that didn’t really stop the smile from spreading as he looked back up to Kain. “Think it’d be a good idea.”

Kain grinned.

* * *

And they fell together. Kain’s apartment had been destroyed in that one blast from Father, so it was obvious to have him move in with Jean, so easy to have him slip into the routine and have two uniforms hanging next to each other and one bed filled with warmth. Some things were simple and extraordinary, like discovering the glimpses of humour that Kain showed in the office were actually only the tip of a very well hidden iceberg to an arsenal of sarcastic remarks. Finding out that ever energetic Sergeant Fuery actually took a good hour and a lot of coffee to get anywhere near wakefulness.

Some things were a little more annoying, like Kain leaving the toilet seat up, or his stubborn hatred of good, old-fashioned okra and bell peppers, no matter how perfectly Jean had cooked them.

And some things…just were, and they dealt with them. Like the night that Jean fell out of bed in the dark, panting, sweating, limbs shaking as he crawled to the bathroom. Marcoh had given him back his legs, but he still couldn’t walk yet so he dragged himself as best he could. He might have croaked for Kain to go back to sleep when a questioning murmur floated over, but he couldn’t process anything through the fog of terror ripping through his brain. 

“Jean?” Kain had jerked awake as soon as soon as he’d heard the thump, and for a moment he’d seen a flash of fire and mud ( _blood_ ) flying through the air, before he realised where he was. Somehow, he managed to fumble around for his glasses and jam the damn things on his face, and stumble to the bathroom without killing himself. The door had slammed shut, and Kain couldn’t hear anything coming from inside. Heart heavy, he knocked on the door, making sure to keep the sound gentle.

“Jean?”

Still nothing.

“Jean, are you all right?”

There might have been a croaked reply, and Kain didn’t know what to do. Kain himself had had the nightmares, the flashbacks. Waking up to his hand tight around Jean’s throat, a harsh realisation, and a thousand broken apologies. And Jean had simply gathered him close and poured love and patience and reassurance into Kain’s war-torn heart. But he didn’t know what to do with Jean. Did he need distance? Quiet? Contact?

Coming to a decision, Kain placed one hand on the door handle. “I’m coming in now, all right Jean? It’s just Kain. I’m going to open the door now.”

He eased the door open slowly, and couldn’t see a damn thing. All that could be heard was the sound of ragged breathing through gritted teeth echoing in the space, and…the itching of skin?

“Jean?”

The tiniest whimper of a reply. Damn it, he couldn’t see anything, but the bathroom light was annoyingly bright and he didn’t want to flood the darkness too quickly.  

“I’ll be right back Jean, I’m just going to turn on the bedroom light so we can see a bit in here. I’ll be right back.” Kain had never thought it would be possible, never thought he would be in this deep for someone that it would actually ache to have to walk away, even for a few seconds, to slap his hand around on the wall of the bedroom to flick on the light. With that done, he hurried back to the bathroom, and the faint light now spilling through the open door let him see that Jean had his back pressed up against the wall. One hand was raised to his mouth and the other raking nails up his thigh.

Heart in his throat, Kain padded forward. It was only when he got closer that he realised that Jean was actually biting down on the hand that was raised to his mouth, ragged fear across his face as his teeth clenched harshly around a knuckle. Kain called his name softly as he knelt down, keeping his movements smooth and slow.

“You’re hurting yourself. Is it all right if I touch you? Just your hand.” Kain kept his eyes trained on Jean’s face in the dim light, wanting to reach out and comfort but not wanting to startle. Teeth still gritted around a knuckle, Jean nodded jerkily, and Kain gently placed one hand on the one Jean had raised to his mouth.

“I’ve got you, Jean.” Kain stroked a thumb across Jean’s hand, trying to coax it away. “It was just a dream. You’re here now, we’re in our bathroom, I’m here with you. Do you know where you are?" 

Finally, Jean let Kain take his hand and lower it, the knuckle bitten angry red. Slowly, he croaked out an answer. “Yeah. Kain.” 

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m right here.” God, it ached to see Jean like this. Kain knew that there were things locked away in Jean’s mind, in a similar vault like the one Kain had, that grew stronger in the dark. There had been nightmares, and sleepless nights, but never as bad as this. In the dim orange of the room, Kain could see t hat Jean was still raking his nails up his leg, so Kain curled his fingers around that hand as well. As best he could, he gathered Jean’s hand within his own, even though the size made it difficult.

Jean’s breath still stuttered through gritted teeth, but his gaze followed their hands when Kain lifted them to kiss the knuckles of one, then the deep bite marks of the other. Kain shifted so he was sitting, and shuffled over to gather Jean in his arms and just hold him, murmuring soft love and comfort. Gradually, Jean’s breath evened out a little.

“I—couldn’t feel them,” he whispered eventually, voice still ragged as it ventured into the dim light. “Dreamt I couldn’t feel them. I was back there, and the—god the way it _hurt_ , and I was just stuck and couldn’t move and Roy’s dying next to me, then he’s screaming. And then he’s—he does the same to me. And god, he’s crying and I’d _never_ seen him like that, but I couldn’t feel a damn thing. Only the burning, god I never thought—”

“Hey, Jean, just breathe for me okay,” Kain said, heart clenching again at the way that Jean’s words were running into each other and his breath had started hitching again. Wishing he could just take Jean away from it all, make it so he never had to go through all that. With gentle fingers, Kain smoothed down Jean’s sweat-dampened hair. “Breathe with me okay? In—two, three, four, yeah that’s good. Back out…”

They stayed like that for a while, Kain counting slowly, carding his fingers through Jean’s hair. Keeping one arm wrapped around broad shoulders, and with Jean grasping at his shirt, Kain reached down to rest a hand on Jean’s thigh.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, gently caressing Jean’s leg where there were scratch marks. “You can feel that, right?”

After a moment’s hesitation, as though still unable to believe it, Jean nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, I can feel that.”

Kain kept smoothing his hand over rough skin, gentle touches to keep Jean grounded. “That’s good. So you’re all right. You’re with me. You’re okay. The tiles are cold, you can feel that too yeah?” Again, Jean nodded slowly, face still buried in Kain’s shirt and fingers clutching desperately.

“You’re safe. You’re all right.” For another few moments, Kain just kept repeating it, kept running his fingers lightly against the skin of Jean’s leg.

“Should we get you back into bed?” he asked eventually. He didn’t mind being with Jean, but it was starting to get cold and Jean was only in his boxers. Kain felt Jean take a steadying breath before he replied.

“Yeah, might be a good idea,” Jean said, and Kain was glad to hear that his voice was clearer now, even though Jean was still shaking.

“All right, let me go grab the wheelchair.” He pressed a kiss to Jean’s forehead and extracted himself. “Don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you. Just give me a moment.”

Kain went back into their bedroom to grab Jean’s wheelchair, and they made their way back into the warmth of the bed. When Kain himself jumped back in after flicking off the light, an arm immediately came over his waist to pull him closer, and Kain wrapped one arm around Jean’s shoulders. They were quiet for a moment, and Jean’s shaking gradually subsided as he clung to Kain.

“God, Fuery.” It was a murmur, frustrated and miserable. “What are you doin’ here?”

Kain’s heart hurt. Kain’s heart hurt to hear that in the dead of night with this warmth wrapped around him, because even though the night had been utterly _bad_ , it had been all he’d wanted for so long. Pulling Jean in a little closer, he tried to pour the love he had down in the very fibre of his soul with a kiss to the crown of Jean’s head, where Kain knew there to be a swirl of hair the colour of gold and caramel. Quietly, in the soft dark, he spoke the only truth he knew.

“I want to be here,” he said. “I’ve wanted to be here for a long time, and I’m not going to go.”

“But, god, I’m all fucked up. I just—god, Kain.”

“So am I. I like being here,” Kain whispered again, drawing Jean closer so the other man was pressed up against Kain’s heartbeat. “I like how you laugh, and how you make me laugh. You’re clever, and I love the sound of your voice, and how you can sing really low. You insist on cooking me weird vegetables, but when you know I’ve had a long day of work you make my favourite food. I feel safe when you hold me, and you have my back even after I—I tried to kill you. So I’m not going anywhere Jean.” Kain swallowed, and there was a lump in his throat as he caressed a cheek. “Please don’t doubt that. I belong here.” There was a long silence in which all that could be heard was the distant hum of traffic from outside, and gentle breathing.

“Thanks,” Jean mumbled after a while, voice muffled against Kain’s shirt.  Kain simply held him closer, not wanting to let even a breath of space between them. Gradually, a sleepy silence descended, and Kain’s occasional murmur weaved warmth, safety, _home_ , as they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Jean Havoc took his first step on his 26th birthday. 

Well, he’d been walking for a little while now. But that had been the exercises that had been prescribed, with steel bars on both sides so he was pretty much using the muscles in his arms rather than his legs (and boy had he been glad that he’d still kept up the arm workouts while he’d been away), and then he’d progressed onto shuffling around with a walking frame. 

But today, he’d finally ditched the frame for a sturdy cane instead. Yeah, he was leaning on it quite a bit, but that first wobbly step he’d taken was another victory on a long road, and he had learned a while ago to count every single blessing. The drag of the carpet under his toes, the cheers of the team around him as he stumbled away from the chair he’d been sitting on. And Kain’s dark eyes never moving from Jean’s, glistening suspiciously behind his glasses, and the soft smile on his face as he bit his lip.

He couldn’t resist, really couldn’t stop himself from taking advantage of the fact that Kain looked like he was about to cry. So he hobbled over, aware that everyone was still watching, but he was mostly just concentrating on his boyfriend. When Jean finally stopped in front of Kain, the kid’s smile had turned a little wobbly as he looked up to meet Jean’s eye. Jean whipped out a wicked grin and raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s the matter, Sergeant Fuery? See something you like?” And then the tears actually spilled forth, and Jean laughed and ran one hand through black hair as Kain swiped a hand under his glasses. 

“I hate you,” Kain said, sniffing and voice thick. “I hate you so damn much, I don’t know why I ever asked you out. You’re actually the worst, and you treat me like a kid—”

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but you are a kid.” Jean caught Kain’s wrist and pulled him forward gently. Even though Kain was crying, Jean’s heart felt lighter than it had in ages. These were happy tears, and they needed some of that after all the sad ones. Jean lowered Kain’s hand and slid one knuckle against the wet skin of Kain’s chin to tilt his head up. And god, it wouldn’t stay like this, but right now everything was perfect and he was so in love despite the fogged up glasses and the scar across Kain’s jaw.

“Thank you,” Jean breathed, and pressed his lips softly against Kain’s.

He was vaguely aware of the whistling and jeering and laughter, but all that really mattered was the way that Kain rose up on his toes to match Jean breath for breath, and how their bodies slotted perfectly together. But then Jean was a little too eager, leaning forward into Kain and forgetting the fact that Kain was over a head shorter than him. 

“Wait, Jean—” Kain let out a shout of surprise when Jean’s left leg decided that maybe he shouldn’t be engaging in long make-out sessions with his tiny boyfriend standing up, and he almost fell over. But then Kain’s hand darted out to grab at Jean’s arm to hold him up, and Jean scrambled with his cane and just managed to stay on his feet. 

“You’re an idiot.” Kain’s eyes were still wet as he steadied Jean and the team surrounded them. “Go sit down.”

“You all right, Havoc?” Mustang asked as Kain helped him hobble over to a chair. Jean grinned, mood still incredibly light.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, and prepared himself. He’d been saving this one for a while; the delivery had to be _perfect_.

“After all, I have my Kain to support me,” he said, nodding towards Kain and waggling the cane in his hand.

There was stunned silence, as though not quite believing what he’d just said. Then _everyone_ groaned collectively, and Jean couldn’t stop himself from cackling like an idiot as they all shouted at him. Kain poked him none too gently in the ribs, but Jean could hear the smile in his voice.

“You won’t for much longer if you go on like that. I _will_ drop you.”

But both of them knew that it meant, _I’ll always have you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)
> 
> I can also be found on [tumblr](http://www.psyraah.tumblr.com)


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